I'm hangin' on the back of the bus with one eye on the computer and the other on CNN while just outside my window the crew has just opened up the trucks and the rig is goin' up. The war that supposedly ended back in the spring has claimed six British and six American lives this week alone and six more kids were wounded overnight.

By the time this tour winds down we will have traveled over 50,000 miles since November of last year and along the way we heard the war drums beating "from sea to shining sea". At first, the voice of reason was tentative at best but by February there were simultaneous anti-war demonstrations in every major city in the country.

The media reported that "tens of thousands" participated but in reality over a million people took to the streets in New York and San Francisco alone. In Europe the numbers were even bigger; a million in London, a million and a half in Berlin, TWO MILLION in Rome. By the time we crossed the pond in March all Iraq was encircled with American firepower and the die was cast but the demonstrations continued even after the bombs began to fall on Baghdad.

We were in Oslo on the 19th, the home of the Nobel Peace Prize and as I sat backstage somberly awaiting a sound check, one of the local crew guys must have read my mind. He said "It's alright. We know it's not you. It's Bush. He is crazy, I think."

I wanted to kiss him. Hell, I wanted adopt him and bring him back with me so he could tell everyone back home what he told me. That it's alright. That we're alright. That people in other countries don't hate Americans. They only disagree with the policies of our current government.

Oh, and by the way, French Fries aren't French. They're Belgian.